


A Series of (Un)Fortunate Events

by eliza_doolittlethings



Series: Falling In Love [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Early Mystrade, Infidelity, M/M, mystrade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:54:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21823996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliza_doolittlethings/pseuds/eliza_doolittlethings
Summary: The memory of the party was vivid. They had danced on the balcony. Mycroft had given in.An innocent gesture.The kiss wasn’t.~~~~~~Mycroft closed his eyes reliving the kiss. It was tender and tentative. At first.He’d felt Greg’s hands move from his shoulder to his neck.One hand held his neck firmly while the other moved up his jaw to behind his ear, pressing his head firmly to Greg’s mouth.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Series: Falling In Love [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1208127
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	1. A Reprieve

**Author's Note:**

> from the month of February through to just before ASIP i.e. 4 yrs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sorry, but we need to rethink our priorities, love, K”
> 
> Greg stood there by the open fridge note in hand staring as if to see more words appear on it.
> 
> Crumpling the paper deliberately, lips set firmly, he walked out of the kitchen, then walked back swiftly to grab his jacket, pulled his phone out and texted.
> 
> Eyes still on the phone screen, he seized the front door open and slammed it shut. Taking the steps two at a time, he collided into the cloaked figure moving doubly fast up the stairs.
> 
> Swearing and cursing, he moved to by pass the barrier but was held firmly by a strong grip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am posting the first few chapters, since I ended the previous series with a touch of angst. There will be more emotional turbulence. Has to be. That's what the Holmes brothers do to anyone in their lives ..  
> hopefully dianna will be content :)

####  _{Night after the party - Greg’s place}_

Greg reached home to an empty flat. Not surprised, he moved to the kitchen as he slowly removed his jacket.

The memory of the party was vivid. They had danced on the balcony. Mycroft had given in.

An innocent gesture.

The _kiss_ though wasn’t.

He knew he shouldn’t have; especially having led the man to believe that he wasn’t interested.

But the bloody man looked so …

Frustrated, Greg ruffled his hair, threw the jacket on the kitchen top and yanked open the fridge.

The clang made him pause. Looking down, he saw the banana fridge magnet by his feet. A note.

* * *

  
  


####  _{Mycroft’s place}_

Mycroft walked to his study, still in his waistcoat. Filling a glass with scotch, he settled by the fireside.

The glass cradled in his hand, he stared into the fire.

The hair just above his shirt collar was ruffled. Anyone would think it from the long day that he had had. 

Mycroft closed his eyes reliving the kiss. It was tender and tentative. At first.

He’d felt Greg’s hands move from his shoulder to his neck.

One hand held his neck firmly while the other moved up his jaw to behind his ear, pressing his head firmly to Greg’s mouth.

* * *

####  _{Greg’s place}_

> _“Sorry, but we need to rethink our priorities, love, K”_

Greg stood there by the open fridge note in hand staring as if to see more words appear on it.

Crumpling the paper deliberately, lips set firmly, he walked out of the kitchen, then walked back swiftly to grab his jacket, pulled his phone out and texted.

Eyes still on the phone screen, he seized the front door open and slammed it shut. Taking the steps two at a time, he collided into the cloaked figure moving doubly fast up the stairs.

Swearing and cursing, he moved to by pass the barrier but was held firmly by a strong grip.


	2. Repressed Emotions

####  _{Greg’s Apartment - stairs}_

He’d know that scent anywhere! Giving in to the force, of the grip and his desire, Greg slid his arms between them and over Mycroft’s chest to his neck and in one fluid motion crushed their lips together.

Eyes closed, he never saw the raw emotion reflected in the Ice Man’s cool blue eyes. If he had, maybe he would have frozen in place. A cold calculating man, Mycroft hid his feelings very well. Greg never knew how much the man not simply desired the Detective, but yearned to possess him, physically and mentally.

Passions surged as each floundered in the eddy of desires.

* * *

  
  


####  _{Mycroft’s Analysis}_

Lying stretched out on the lumpy bed, the sheet barely covering his legs, Greg’s right arm flung across his bare chest, the Ice Man gazed out the narrow bedroom window. Adjusting his head, left palm tucked under his neck, Mycroft stared at the sleeping form of the Inspector.

He had never intended to reach out to him. Mycroft knew that by now Karen must have left him again. It was obvious. 

He had decided to go for a drive and ended up outside Greg’s apartment.

The message broke all the carefully constructed barriers - 

> **I’m coming over to stay the night - GL.**

* * *

  
  


####  _{Greg’s Thoughts}_

Early hours of the morning, dawn yet to break, Greg woke from the need to pee. Unsure at first, he reached out, then smiled in the dark. Mycroft was still there. Sleeping. Both hands under his right cheek, legs curled up, he looked like a small boy. Greg could barely see the tuft of hair that had stuck to his sweat laden forehead while they had had their heated encounter last night.

Careful not to wake the Government Official, the Inspector slipped into the loo in the dark and gently closed the door.

Switching on the light, he looked at his reflection and shook his head, roughing up his hair in disbelief.

* * *


	3. The Aftermath

####  _ {Greg’s Apartment - Early Morning] _

“What DID you mean, then?!” Greg ground out the words, unable to contain his fury.

“Well, I didn’t know you were waiting for me to clear off to shake-up your midlife crisis!” Karen shouted, arms moving like a windmill.

“I’m not having a mid-life crisis. You need to make up your mind,” Greg spoke quietly, hands hanging limply by his side.

“I came to get my bags,” Karen stated tonelessly.

Resting his hands on both hips, Greg inhaled deeply and let his narrowed eyes linger on his wife for a moment longer than he had intended. Defeated, he walked into the bedroom shutting the door calmly.

* * *

  
  


####  _ {Mycroft’s Office- that morning} _

“Sir, ..” Anthea repeated.

“Yes! What is it?” Mycroft asked, a touch menacingly.

“The Europian Union Commission needs briefing,” Anthea replied.

“What time is it?” Mycroft let out a sigh as he fished out his pocket watch.

“9:25 Sir,” was Anthea’s clipped reply.

“It was scheduled for 9:30, right?” Mycroft enquired as he studied the document before him.

“Yes, Sir.”

“I shall be there.”

Mycroft kept his eyes on the paper, unseeing, waiting to hear the door shut. The next moment he slouched back in his chair, rubbing his forehead with his left hand while shutting the file and throwing it on the desk with his right.

* * *

  
  


####  _ {Greg’s Office - same time} _

“Sir!” Sally shouted.

“I’m not deaf!” Greg shouted back.

“I’ve been talking for the past ten minutes, and you’ve said nothing!” Sally was furious.

“Leave the case file on the desk. I’ll look into it,” Greg muttered, slouching in the chair.

“You’ve been asked by the super to personally investigate the “Sittacoat” case,” Sally announced, hands folded across her chest, eyes judging him.

“I will,” Greg let out, as he moved forward, pulling the file that Sally seemed to have thrown on the desk before yelling at him.

“I don’t know why I put up with you?” Greg groaned.

“So that you can brood.” Sally’s voice faded as she walked away.


	4. Who Do You Think You Are

####  _{Mycroft’s Apartment - that night}_

Mycroft had moved. Perks of the job. Moving up the invisible ladder of Special Security Services, he was allotted a new place with extra security. Fully furnished catalogue style apartment with state of the art gadgets - lighting, curtains, television, and so on. Only, he had not mentioned, or rather had not gotten the time, or situation to tell Greg.

The face of the Ice Man was red like the setting sun. Barging into the living room from the elevator, he threw the keycard onto the white couch situated in the middle and walked over to a cabinet in the corner.

Pouring out a glass of scotch, he corked the bottle, placed it aside and stood there by the counter, both hands placed flat on it.

* * *

  
  


####  _{Greg’s Apartment - same time}_

Greg struggled with the lock to his apartment. He was bone tired. It was way past midnight. After settling the case and filling the super in with the details, he had rushed to Mycroft’s, only to find that he had moved some weeks back.

Confounded, he tried to contact Anthea but to no avail. Then he went to Mycroft’s office, but they had informed that he was in a crucial meeting. They wouldn’t give him Mycroft’s address.

He waited outside the Diogenes, hoping to see him when he went in. When the clock struck midnight he decided to give up and drove home.

* * *

  
  


####  _{Sherlock’s Apartment - a few minutes later}_

The time was 12:35 a.m. Sherlock watched the phone screen’s display dim and pressed the off key. He threw the phone on his bed and jumped out of his chair.

His phone lit up - one new message - DI Lestrade:

**I need to talk to him - GL.**

As the display dimmed, it lit up again - one new message - Arch Enemy:

**Leave him alone! - MH.**

The smile that dawned on those disdainful lips would have made Molly faint.

Snatching the phone he quickly sent two texts - 

To Lestrade: **His new address is … - SH.**

To Hooper: **Need a fresh liver. - SH.**


	5. Once More Please

####  _ {Mycroft’s Apartment - almost dawn} _

Mycroft gazed at the blinds covering his bedroom window. Covered by a satin quilt, stretched out in his full length, the man could not sleep.

Sighing, he looked at the sleeping form of the Inspector next to him. A sliver of a smile tugged at one corner. The man could sleep anywhere!

Slowly, Mycroft turned to his right, shifted closer and folding both hands under his right cheek, tilted his head to get a better view of the sleeping form. The dim light from the street that entered through the blinds gave an ethereal glow to the Inspector’s hair.

The smile grew as the Ice Man shut his eyes.

* * *

  
  


####  _ {Mycroft’s Apartment - Morning} _

“I’ll be off, soon,” Greg half turned to look at Mycroft, who was dressed in his shirt and trousers, waist coat unbuttoned, collar open, cufflinks and tie missing.

Switching off the flame, he swiftly emptied the pan’s contents onto two plates that he had laid out on the breakfast table.

“Eat,” he said, while pushing one plate towards Mycroft, who stood motionless.

Tilting his head to a side, Greg watched the Ice Man closely. Then raising both eyebrows in defeat, and shrugging his shoulders he took the second plate, shovelling the scrambled eggs into his mouth.

From the corner of his eyes, he watched Mycroft slowly edge closer.

* * *

  
  


####  _ {Mycroft’s Apartment - Night} _

“I’m back.” Greg removed his coat in a hurry, hung it on the hook by the door, chucked his shoes and moved into the apartment with ease.

“There is a take away on the counter,” Mycroft’s voice floated from the study.

“You’ve had?” Greg shouted out, as he walked towards the open kitchen.

There was no reply for a few seconds, then, “No, I was waiting for you,” Mycroft’s soft voice next to him made Greg jump.

“Why did you do that!?” Greg exclaimed as he turned to biff Mycroft but stopped short upon seeing his expression.

“I hate to shout.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting early when I have net speed. The series is almost complete. I'll try to post as soon as possible - with Lavender_and_Vanilla's help of course!  
> She's been very meticulous and like a mother hen, watching over me :)


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